Aphneal
by Syshe
Summary: First there was Sandry...Daja...Briar...Tris...then there was Aphneal. Takes place during/after the pirate attacks on WCT, focusing on a survivor. My first fic, so be brutally honest. Rating for possible violence and language. CHAPT. 5 UP!
1. Aphneal

Well, this is my first fic!!! I wrote it just today, and I think it's coming along nicely, but the first part might be a little confusing.I'll explain more later on. Constructive criticism is welcome, but please, NO FLAMES! I am such a sensitive person.hee hee, yeah right. Rating is for possible violence and language; I might change it later on.Well, I hope you like it!  
  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: I own Aphneal, and possibly some more characters later, but other than that, the COM characters are Tamora Pierce's.*rubs hands together evilly*.but how I wish they were mine!!! * Comes out of evil state* But until then, ya can't sue me!  
  
  
  
A deafening bang came from overhead, and the ship rocked violently. She was thrown into the wall, along with half the galley's supplies and the other slaves. She slipped down to the floor, and then followed the ship's movement with each rock it took.  
  
  
  
  
  
Another crash from the deck, and plaster and wood started to fall from the ceiling, covering everything in a fine white dust. Somebody fell hard on her elbow, she was pushed to the floor; her head struck the leg of the table. Dazed, she pulled herself up, only to be rounded into a barrel holding apples. It tipped and the hard fruit rained down on her. Shrieking, she covered her head with her hands and a third explosion damaged the ship- this time, louder. The ceiling gave way above her and the pirates fell through, hitting the other slaves and the table. Somebody's sword fell loose and drew through a male slave with a cracked head. A lantern from the deck fell into the galley and burst open, shattering glass. The flame crept up a screaming woman's dress and onto the barrels. The woman ran into the barrels, scattering vegetables and fruits, leaving her to run out and be trampled on. She looked up in time to roll away from a dark slave's body, and realized that her bottom lip was bit through.  
  
  
  
  
  
Yelling in confusion and terror she ran to the galley's door, getting punched in the leg from a man half on fire, and stumbling over a child like herself who appeared to be dead from the sword. Smoke was starting to fill the small kitchen, and it was getting hard to breath.  
  
  
  
  
  
Another round of pirates came crashing through the ceiling, cursing and shouting. Almost instantly followed a cannon ball, landing straight in the center of the galley. She screamed and covered her face as the boat pitched forward, throwing her into the mass of dead and fire. A freezing wave of cold washed over her as she crawled away, wood splinters digging into her hands and legs. It took her a moment to realize that it was water-not water from the barrels, but water from the sea. She looked back and saw the huge hole the cannon ball had made in the floor, where water was already filling in.  
  
  
  
  
  
Her arm ached and blood ran into her eyes from some wound on her head, but she managed to stand up. Slaves were already frantically fighting to get out the hole. Her eyes started to water as the smoke came nearer, and she knew she didn't have long to think. Water flooded up to her knees, and screams of fright from the deck told her that the same thing was happening overhead.  
  
  
  
  
  
She ran for the hole, pushing her way past the others, getting tripped and punched in the act. Wood tore at her clothes, and made a deep gash in her side. She howled in pain, but managed to get both legs into the icy water. Someone fell on her head as the rest of the ship split open, bloodying her arms. Everyone flew for the water, and she filled her lungs with air and thrust herself down the hole and into the water below.  
  
  
  
  
  
Underwater, she dared not open her eyes, but ran one hand along the ships bottom, ignoring the people who tugged at her and the bits and pieces of wood. Luckily, she was a strong swimmer, and managed to get away from the slaves. Halfway across the boat, her air gave, and she struggled madly for the light she could see behind her eyelids that marked the open sea.  
  
  
  
  
  
Suddenly, the wood beneath her hand ended, and she was there. She pushed her way to the surface, feeling weak and light-headed. She burst into the openness, gasping-choking-for air. Her lungs relaxed and she started to cough violently. A wave pushed her back under the ship, banging her head, and panicking, she dove farther underwater and swam until she was sure she was far enough away from the ship to not be pushed under. A foot kicked into her head just as she made her way back to the surface of the water, making her spin. She dog paddled away weakly, knowing that it was close to the end. Blood flowed from the wound at her side and on her head, and one eye was beginning to swell up. Her hands were bleeding within form splinters, same as her feet. A bruise had formed on her upper arm and on her knee. Looking into the sky, she saw that it was bright with flames from not only her boat, but also three others, and the shadows of what the pirates called boom-stones shook the land beyond.  
  
  
  
  
  
Grabbing hold of a piece of floating wood, she crawled on it, legs dangling off the edge, and lay her head in her arms. She let the waves push her out of the wreckage and fighting and farther into Pebbled Sea.  
  
  
  
  
  
"I'm surprised that she doesn't have any broken bones," a male voice commented softly.  
  
"It's amazing that her injuries aren't worse than they are, after being through all that," a woman's crisp voice replied.  
  
"Well, she soon blacked out after she made it into the water," the man explained. "She floated out farther than all the rest-seeing that the rest were mostly all killed in the battle." A cool hand touched the girl's forehead. "It took the Navy almost an entire day to rescue the few remaining, then a sailor spotted her raft, and saw her on it. They rowed out there to see if she was alive, and she was."  
  
"That's incredible," the woman murmured. "She must have been a galley slave, from the look of these wounds." She ran a hand along the sleeping girl's leg, pausing at a large black and blue bruise the size of her hand. "And she's so young-can't be more than twelve."  
  
"It would seem to be that way," the man said absently, examining the girl's head wound. "The healers fixed her up best they could-removed all the splinters, bandaged her head and stomach, fixed her lip. She was unconscious the whole time. Now all we can do is wait for her to wake up-if she does."  
  
"Of course she will," the woman said crisply, with more sureness in her voice than she felt.  
  
"Well, she lost a lot of blood," the man sighed.  
  
"It can be replaced."  
  
"Let's only hope."  
  
"Do they know her name?"  
  
"Of course not. The pirates didn't keep records of their kitchen staff, now, did they?"  
  
"Well, no."  
  
"You see? It will be virtually impossible to figure out who these people are if they die, and it's not like they are going to suddenly wake up and tell us their names. Come along. There are other beds we must visit before out meeting with his Grace. Others who are awake."  
  
The girl listened to the sound of footsteps as the two speakers retreated. Without opening her eyes, she whispered through cracked lips, "Aphneal. My name is Aphneal." 


	2. Waking

Well, here's the second chapter. Sorry the beginning was so long on the last, but I kinda needed that to show what she went through. I dunno.this is just a linking chapter-it explains briefly about her home and how she got with the pirates-but I'll have more to the story next time I post. Which will be after I get MORE REVIEWS!!! Oh and thanks to Lady Chips and Kate, who were my FIRST REVIEWERS! YAY! Yes, I plan to get the Circle gang in quite soon; they'll probably play a big part in this.  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing (so far) except Aphneal; the rest belongs to the person I envy most: Tamora Pierce! Oh, and maybe Chordia, Ziznar, and the Laenpa, too, but you never know, somebody else might already.But now people can't sue me, and I'm glad, because I finally have some MOO-lah * does psychotic little victory dance * and I don't wanna give it away to no-BODY!  
  
The first thing Aphneal felt several mornings later was warm sunlight hitting her straight in the eyes. She lay there a moment, eyes closed, soaking up the sun's rays, as she had once in her home of Chordia, a village on the coast of the southern-most Stepping Stone Island, Ziznar. She could almost smell the saltiness of the sea, the unique odor of the fishermen's morning catch, the aroma of sweet tarmi* bread baking on her mother's hearth. Aphneal could almost hear waves slapping against the rocky shore, and her mother singing in her beautiful soprano voice. In fact, if she tried hard enough, she might just be able to see the gulls soaring high above the whitewashed one-room houses, squawking with the pleasure of another perfect day.  
  
No. That was too long ago. She could only imagine about her home, not see it. After all, it had been four long years since the pirates who had attacked her island and rounded her and some others up as slaves for their ships.  
  
Aphneal breathed heavily-for any other person it would have been called a sigh-and opened her eyes slowly, squinting in the sun.  
  
The first thing she noticed was a white ceiling, crisscrossed with wood rafters. The next was more distinct-and more startling. A man was leaning over her, long silver hair falling over one shoulder, dark eyes wrinkled with concern. Aphneal jumped a little, and squeaked. The man smiled crookedly, and stood up straight.  
  
He had on a linen overcoat of dusky gray, bronze threads bordering the sleeves and collar; a full sleeved white shirt, and black breeches, complete with dark blue sash. His face easily told that he was at least middle aged, but his dark brown eyes, almost black, made him look younger. His long black hair streaked with silver was loose, and it came down almost to his waist. A leather pouch on a string was tied to his sash, next to a dagger. Everything about him cried out "wealthy!" He smiled down at Aphneal. "You are awake at last. I thought Dedicate Moonstream's enlivenment powder would work. You were almost awake anyways. I could tell." He patted the pouch with one hand.  
  
Aphneal just stared at him a moment, trying to remember where she was and what had happened. Her head felt as if it was weighed down, and she felt something wrapped tightly around it.  
  
"The pirates' defeat, my dear," the man said, as if reading her thoughts. "You survived-just. You were unconscious when the Duke's navy found you, and have been asleep for three days. We were starting to worry."  
  
The girl opened her mouth to say something, but no sound came out.  
  
"You're at Winding Circle Temple, in Summersea, Emelan. In the infirmary. I imagine that what you've been through has been enough to make anyone disorientated for awhile."  
  
Aphneal finally found her voice after one more swallow. "Who-who are you?" Her words came out hoarse and cracked, like she had been singing for much too long.  
  
The man bowed. "Pardon me, for not introducing myself before. I am Niklaren Goldeye-Niko to my friends. And you?"  
  
"Aphneal Harashmir."  
  
Niko raised an eyebrow. "Harashmir? I could be mistaken, but doesn't only the Laenpa people use the suffix 'mir'? Of the Stepping Stone Islands?"  
  
Aphneal tried to smile, but it hurt too much. Instead she replied, "Yes. I was born in Chordia, on Ziznar."  
  
"Then how did you get in a pirate's galley?"  
  
Aphneal stared at the strange man in above her, and only then realized that she was laying on an infirmary bed. "I worked for them," she said slowly. "Since I was young. They had come to Chordia when I was seven, and captured several dozen people for their slaves." She shuddered, remembering. "I was one of them."  
  
Expecting to see pity in his eyes, she saw only sorrow. "I'm sorry," Niko offered.  
  
She started to wave a hand at him, then grimaced, and lowered it. Looking at it, she saw it had two dark bruises on it, one on the skin just below her elbow and one on her higher forearm. "It's okay," she muttered. "It was four years at least with them. I got used to it." She yawned and her eyes fluttered, on the verge of sleep.  
  
"Well," Niko said suddenly, all sadness disappearing. "I shouldn't have kept you up so long. You're recovering. I'm going to let you sleep-we can talk later." He patted her hand and started for a door in the far end of the room. Halfway there, he turned back at her. "You were separated from the other patients," he informed her. "You were the youngest, and we didn't want you to be, er, disturbed by them. I hope you enjoy your own room. Goodbye for now, Aphneal Harashmir." He strode out the door, leaving the girl to shrug and turn onto her side, giving in to sleep.  
  
*tarmi.Since Aphneal is a part of this culture I made up, Laenpa, of course they have their own language. So tarmi bread is supposed to be a bread sweetened with sugar. Got it?  
  
And you see that little blue button down there? Click it and review!!! 


	3. The Magic Analyzer

Here's the third chapter! Enjoy! And GlaiveGirl-OF COURSE I WILL!!! Thanks!  
  
Disclaimer: You know it-I don't own no nothin' 'cept Aphneal. The rest is Tamora Pierce's.  
  
The girl was sitting up in bed, fiddling with the bandages on her hands from where the healers had taken out the many splinters. As soon as she had awoken this morning, a temple novice had bustled in with a tray of food. After she had satisfied her hunger-it was not very often she got such rich food; the pirate's had made sure of that-she had slept a little more, then a dedicate came in to examine her. Her bandages were replaced with fresh ones, and she was forced to drink a putrid-smelling tea that while it smelled bad, it made her head feel clearer. Aphneal learned that her head had cracked open, she had a deep gash reaching from under her arm to her waist on her right side, and she wouldn't be able to walk for at least another day while the healers salves worked on her injured feet. Now she was waiting for Niko to come; she had been told that he would be there before midday.  
  
A knock came on her door. "Come in," she called. Her voice was still rough, but it was almost healed.  
  
The door opened and Niko walked in, followed by a plump girl about Aphneal's age with wild copper hair, pale skin, and wire-rimmed glasses. The girl, who wore a simple housedress, boots, and a kerchief over her fiery hair, was looking down at the floor, and her cheeks were slightly flushed. Niko was dressed with his same regalness; only this time the color scheme was sable and a light yellow.  
  
"Good morning," he greeted her, and bowed slightly.  
  
Aphneal laughed. He treated her like a noble, or a temple member at least, not a slave. "Hey, Yu Goldeye."  
  
"Yoo?" he asked, puzzled.  
  
"Oh-it means 'sir', or 'mister' in Laenpa," she explained.  
  
"Ah, yes. Anyways, you can just call me Niko-it's easier. I hope you are feeling better today-I heard you were given Dedicate Rosethorn's willowbark tea. I'm sorry I couldn't stop them." His eyes twinkled.  
  
The patient laughed again. "That's okay. It did make me feel better, even if it tasted like something that came fresh out of a sewer."  
  
Niko smiled. "Well, that's good. The sooner you get well, the better." He stepped aside, and took the red-haired girl by the shoulder. "I should introduce you two. Aphneal, this is Trisana Chandler. Tris, Aphneal Harashmir." He gestured to them in turn.  
  
Tris curtsied, and Aphneal noticed that the girl had gray eyes, just like a thick fog or a storm.  
  
Aphneal nodded at her, then gave the traditional Laenpa greeting: a touch of the forehead with the thumb, touch the mouth, and bow-only she nodded deeply, because she was in bed. "Pleased to meet you."  
  
A strange look came over Niko's face, as if he was confused yet amazed at the same time. He shook it off, then continued. "Tris is weather-mage at Discipline Cottage," he told Aphneal. "That's a cottage on the temple grounds."  
  
"Weather-mage in training, actually," spoke up Tris, going slightly redder.  
  
"Yes. Well, she's helping out in the infirmaries since"-Niko paused awkwardly-"since we have so many more patients in from the attack," He pushed a wisp of hair behind his ear. "Uh, I-I just wanted you two to meet- thought maybe you could talk sometime."  
  
Tris stared down at the floor, biting her lip. "Maybe," she said.  
  
Aphneal stared at her. If she didn't know better, she'd think the girl was embarrassed about something-was it because she was-had been-a slave? She felt her cheeks start to heat, but reminded herself that Tris was probably just shy. "That'd be nice," she told Niko half-heartedly.  
  
"Good. Then Tris, you'd better be going-Dedicate Henna will be wanting those food trays soon; it's close to midday."  
  
"'Course," Tris said brightly, curtsied to Aphneal once more, then hurried out of the room.  
  
As soon as she was gone, Aphneal commented, "I don't think she liked me much."  
  
"Nonsense," Niko replied, fumbling through the purse that hung from his belt. "It just takes her a little while to warm up to people. And you only just met."  
  
Aphneal shrugged. She decided not to think too much of it.  
  
The man took out a small object from his purse. "Now." He strode across the room, then sat at the chair that was beside the girl's bed. "This is what you call a magic-analyzer." He held up the object to Aphneal.  
  
It was a tightly rolled cylinder, maybe six inches long, made out of pure gold. On one end was a magnifying lens, on the other was several small dials and knobs. For a moment, Aphneal thought she saw letters written on- no, in-the gold, but when she blinked, they were gone.  
  
"It's beautiful," she breathed.  
  
"And also very expensive."  
  
"Then why do you have it?" Just as the words came from her mouth, Aphneal instantly bowed down as best she could sitting up. "Oh! Forgive me, Yu Goldeye! I didn't mean any disrespect! It just came out before I could-"  
  
Niko laughed. "There's nothing to be forgiven for, my dear. How were you to know?" He chuckled some more, as the girl raised herself up, wincing with pain.  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"Didn't I say before that I was a mage?"  
  
Aphneal's eyes widened. "No!" she squeaked. "I knew that you were important, from your clothes, but a sanir, a mage-" She fell into an impressed silence.  
  
"Don't you have mages where you come from? Or are they that rare nowadays?"  
  
"Well, the pirates had them of course, but they all worked for-for"-she faltered-"Enahar." She swallowed. "At home there was only a few, and those were the obvious: the village healer, the grainmaster, that sort."  
  
"Grainmaster?" asked Niko.  
  
"The man in charge of Chordia's food supply. He needed magic so he could keep out wild animals and bakas--thieves." She got a sort of dreamy look on her face, as if she could almost see her old home, then sort of snapped out of it and said, "But there weren't any regular people that had magic."  
  
"Hmm," Niko thought. "Well then, this experiment today will prove even more interesting."  
  
"Wha-"  
  
"Just be still and watch," the mage directed. He flicked a switch on the side of the magic-analyzer and it began to hum. Aphneal watched in awe. He put his eye up to the end with the dials and switched a few things around. Then he aimed the instrument at the girl's forehead.  
  
Through the glass, Niko could see nothing. That's unusual, he thought. I'm never wrong about my predictions. He turned a knob a little more, and saw the faintest speckle of yellow. Switching a dial from two to four, he saw a pale trace of yellow spots. There we have it. He again raised the number on the dial, the light growing brighter and brighter the entire time. He got to the number "14", then-  
  
The light flashed before his eyes, blinding him. He yelled in surprise, and dropped the instrument, his hands over his eyes. A sharp pain in his head suddenly made him wince, and he drew back from the girl, as if burned.  
  
Aphneal sat up straighter and drew a breath. "Niko?" she asked worriedly. "Niko? Are you all right?"  
  
When his only response was a moan of pain, she leaned towards him. "Niko? What's wrong? What's-"  
  
The door swung open and a dedicate dressed in a green Earth Temple habit nearly ran into the room. With a frightened glance at Aphneal, she helped Niko stand up, him still rubbing his eyes. "Come on," she murmured to him. "Let's go."  
  
She led him out the door and down the whitewashed hall, leaving Aphneal to only watch them leave in astonishment.  
  
There ya have it. I hope that everybody likes it so far.and if you do, ya know what would be sweet? To review! (Hey, that rhymes.) 


	4. Talking

CHAPTER FOUR! YAY! TWO CHAPTERS IN ONE DAY! (Hey, that rhymes.) Hope ya like it so far!  
  
Disclaimer: I own Aphneal Harashmir, Ziznar, Chordia, and the Laenpa people. And the plot. The rest is Tamora Pierce's work.  
  
By the time Tris Chandler had finished up her work in the infirmaries for the day, it was evening. In a couple more days, the pirates who had survived would be brought before Duke Vedris, so there was extra work to be done-sawing off casts, rubbing aloe on burns, heating up endless kettles of Rosethorn's famous-or infamous, depending on how you saw it-willowbark tea. Mostly she helped with the food trays, though, and cleaning. Her hands were raw from the scrubbing she had done today in the East ward and the hard lye soap. Hands nestled in her pockets, she walked down the winding road towards Discipline Cottage, her home.  
  
Off to the side where the land met the ocean, she could still see laborers filling up the holes the pirates' boom-stones had left, though the wall and gate were almost completely rebuilt. Tris smiled grimly-although she had helped stop the pirates from defeating the temple, some of the damage there was hers. The Duke's navy was still hauling up pieces of the shipwrecked fleet.and bodies of men, women, and children that had been killed. Most were galley slaves, but some were the pirates' crew, ladies, and mages.  
  
Galley slaves.  
  
Like that girl she had met that morning, Aphneal. She had felt guilty and embarrassed, like she had given the poor girl her injuries-she reminded herself that she probably had. Tris sighed sadly.  
  
She reached the gate to Discipline and let herself in. Rosethorn was in her garden out back, kneeling over a patch of lavender. She went inside, and found Lark, Sandry, and Daja in the kitchen.  
  
"Tris," greeted Lark, one of the two dedicates in charge of their home cottage. "You're home." Lark had golden-brown skin, short black hair in tight curls, and black eyes. She wore the habit of an Earth dedicate, because she was a thread-mage. Dusting off her hands from the bread dough she had been kneading into flour, she gave Tris a half hug.  
  
"You don't want to hug me," Tris informed her, pulling away. "I had to scrub floors all day. I'm filthy."  
  
"A little dirt never hurt anybody," came Rosethorn's voice from the back door. She had come in, and was setting her gardening tools on a chair while she wiped off soil from her bare feet. Rosethorn was the second dedicate of Discipline. She was shorter than Lark, just over five feet, and had ivory skin, chestnut hair mannishly short, and vivid green eyes. She was a plant- mage, and in charge of the garden. Her personality was exactly like her name: pretty as a rose, but quick as a thorn to bite.  
  
"How was the infirmaries today?" asked Sandry, jumping up from her post at the table shelling peas and pulling out a chair for her friend. She patted the seat. Sandry was actually Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, noble orphaned daughter and almost-royalty in two countries-her great-uncle was Duke Vedris of Emelan himself-but she didn't act like a noble most of the time. Her complexion was girlishly light, and her honey-brown hair was almost always braided in the same two plaits down her back. She had sparkling blue eyes, and was, like Lark, very affectionate and compassionate. Lark was her teacher, too, because Sandry was also a thread-mage.  
  
Tris sat down thankfully. Her arms ached and her head felt woozy from the soap. "Fine. About fifteen patients got sent home from the North ward, so they closed up the East ward and moved those to the empty beds." She wrinkled her nose. "The pirates are still there, though."  
  
Daja set a bowl of apple slices onto the table, and asked, "Where's Niko? I thought he went with you this morning." Daja Kisubo was the only Trader in Discipline. She actually was trangshi, or an outcast to her people. Her skin was dark, her eyes a chocolate brown, and she had a head full of black cornrows. She was still in mourning for her family, who had died in the wreck of their Trader ship, the Third Ship Kisubo-Daja had been the only survivor, that's how she had been governed trangshi-so she wore red ties at the ends of her braids and a red armband on one arm. She was a smith-mage, taught by Dedicate Frostpine, who lived in his forge.  
  
Tris shrugged. "We was there for about a half-hour or so, then I saw a dedicate leading him down to the Hub. I don't know what happened. I haven't seen him since."  
  
"That's strange," remarked Sandry.  
  
Lark nodded. "I didn't hear anything about that." She glanced at Rosethorn, who had began to walk towards her room at the back of the house. "Did you, Rosie?"  
  
"Nope. I had sent another basket of willowbark up there with Briar, and he didn't say anything." She disappeared in her room, and the door closed behind her.  
  
Briar Moss himself emerged from the top of the stairs. He had been relaxing on the thatch roof, watching the builders finish a portion of the wall. "What did I not say?" he asked. He sat down at the table next to Sandry and immediately grabbed a handful of apple slices from the bowl. Briar had been a thief from Hajra, Sotat's capital, when he had first come to Discipline. He had bronze skin, green-gray eyes, and coarse-cut wavy black hair. He was taller than the all the girls by about a head, but probably the thinnest. He had grown up in Deadman's District, and natural thieving instincts, like "take as much food as you can while it's there" still applied to him. He was a plant-mage; his teacher was Rosethorn.  
  
Sandry frowned at him. "Well, don't choke."  
  
He waved a hand at her, a half masticated apple in his mouth. "I won't. Don't worry."  
  
She giggled.  
  
Tris rolled her eyes, then got up to go to the well. "I'm going to go wash up," she told the four.  
  
Dedicate Superior Moonstream folded her hands on the table, a thoughtful expression on her dark face. She stared at Niko, who sat across from her. "You say it was powerful, Niko?" Her brown eyes were kind, yet alert and ready.  
  
"Extremely. It blinded me for a few minutes, and I'm not afraid to admit that I still have the headache it gave me." He rubbed his temples.  
  
"Could you tell what sort? Thread, weather, plants? Fire?"  
  
"No," Niko sighed. "All I saw was-yellow. The analyzer can't tell what sort of magic, just if it's there or not. And it was definitely there." He looked up at Moonstream. "What should we do? We can't let go a slave with magic on the streets-she'd never survive, and her power would break loose sooner or later."  
  
"She says she has family in Chordia. We could send her home."  
  
Niko shook his head. "No," he replied. "Have you heard what's been going on in the Stepping Stone Islands?"  
  
"Of course," Moonstream answered promptly. "The islands' leader, Onole Caskii, has set up new laws and started taxing the villagers, not just the city peoples. Four violent rebellions within the last month have killed soldiers and natives alike, adding up to a total of three hundred dead. It's no place for a child, at least not now."  
  
There was a thoughtful silence between the two.  
  
"I suppose we could keep her," Niko said slowly, thinking aloud. "Winding Circle has worked with children like herself before. All we need is to find out what kind of magic she has and find her a teacher."  
  
"Easier said than done." The woman leaned back in her chair, eyes on her hands. "We don't know if she will be willing to cooperate with us, or if she even knows she has magic. It might take her awhile to get used to the idea. I'm sure you know that, after working with the mages at Discipline." She gave him a half smile.  
  
Niko laughed roughly. "I certainly do."  
  
"Plus, she might be hesitant or afraid to use her magic, after her experiences with the pirate-mages and Enahar."  
  
Niko nodded. "But it's worth a try."  
  
"Surely," Moonstream agreed. She raised an eyebrow. "Then you will talk to."  
  
"Aphneal," offered the man.  
  
"Yes. Aphneal. Tell her about her situation and what we talked about this afternoon."  
  
"Yes. Tomorrow," Niko promised.  
  
Hmmm.I'm starting to get more on the plot.interesting.I hope to have chapter five up before long. REVIEW! 


	5. Lightfire

Thanks to everyone who reviewed! YAY!!! I have now SIX reviews!!! (Ok, so that's not a lot, but it makes ME feel SPECIAL!!!!!!)  
  
Adi-Thanks so much! I've never been called "excellent" before. It brings a tear to the eye and a warmth to the soul. (Goddess, did I just say that?) Anyways, it makes me feel good. I read your story. It's SOOOO awesome!!!!! Keep it up! I wanna read more! You must be psychic!!! I'm not sayin' anythang yet, but.colors count.  
  
Anita Blake-Thanks! COM is personally my fav series. I LUV 'EM!!!  
  
Kate-I'll try to speed things up.the first couple chapters were just sorta the basis, or links, whatever you prefer.Thanks!  
  
Oh, and I'm going to try to put something in about how Aphneal looks, if any of you have been wondering.  
  
So here goes: the fifth chapter! I'm not positive WHEN Aphneal will meet the four mages, but it will be SOON-either in this chapter or the next. I like to add lotsa details.And if anybody has an idea for a nickname for our friend Aphneal, IT WILL BE WELCOME! I mean, seriously folks, who would go around saying, "APHNEAL, make your bed, APHNEAL clean your room, APHNEAL do the dishes, APHNEAL I just ADORE that dress, APHNEAL." You get the point. I though about "Aphie", but.*grimaces*.I dunno.  
  
Disclaimer: I own Aphneal, the Laenpa, the plot, Aphneal's home, and maybe the magic-analyzer. Everything else so far is that goddess we call Tamora Pierce's work. But * evil cackle * it shall SOON be MINE! MWAHAHAHA!!!  
  
The next day Aphneal was allowed to get out of bed and walk around her room, seeing that the salves had worked. Niko came in to visit her after midday, alone.  
  
"Niko!" she greeted him, half-running up to see him. "Where did you go yesterday? I was worried." She fetched a tube from her bedside table drawer. "You left this."  
  
She handed it to him. It was the magic-analyzer. "You didn't touch it, did you?" he asked wearily. He had hardly gotten any sleep the night before, having been up planning the release of the pirates and thinking about Aphneal and her hidden magic.  
  
She shook her head no.  
  
"Good girl." He slid the instrument into his purse. "Here, let's sit down. We need to talk." He gestured to the chair and bed and Aphneal obediently sat on the bed, smiling at Niko as he sat.  
  
The man stared at her for a moment, realizing that this was the first time he had actually seen her up and running. Aphneal was about medium height, but very thin, from her time as a slave. She had the light tan skin of a westerner, but light brown textured hair pulled back in a low bun and brown eyes flecked with gold. Her arms and legs were muscular, from the sort of work she was used to, and her lips were tan and full. Niko recognized this as the typical appearance of the Laenpa people.  
  
"What'd you wanna talk about?" the girl inquired.  
  
Niko took a breath. "Remember yesterday, when I used the magic-analyzer on you?" the man asked. He decided to be blunt. She would understand things better this way. Aphneal nodded. "It looks inside you-not inside your body," he explained, "but inside your mind. Your soul. Your inner-being."  
  
Aphneal raised an eyebrow. "You mean it looks for magic."  
  
"To put it simply, yes. While I was looking in you, I found something. But it was hidden-I nearly had to go in all the way to find it. What I found-- it was magic."  
  
There was an awkward silence between the two, for several tense minutes. Aphneal stared at Niko. Was he saying that she had magic? She, Aphneal Harashmir, galley slave, magical? It wasn't possible...was it? "M-me? Magic?"  
  
"Yes. You have magic." He gave her a crooked smile. "Did you know?"  
  
"No! I mean-well, things had happened, but-"  
  
"So you suspected."  
  
"Of course not! No regular Laenpa has it! Nobody!"  
  
Niko sighed. "Just because most of your people don't have it, doesn't signify that you won't. Magic chooses the person. It's a gift from the gods. If you don't use your magic after awhile, it will break loose and possibly hurt you or others. It may be a gift, but it can be dangerous."  
  
Aphneal swallowed hard. "So what should I do?"  
  
"First things first. You need a teacher with the same magic as you. If one cannot be found, the mage who discovers your magic-that's me-needs to teach you. It's the law. You need to train your magic, be taught, or over time it will become frustrated."  
  
"But-how will I know what kind of magic I have?"  
  
"Well, different magics show themselves in different ways. The one that you possess will choose how it appears. You said that 'things had happened'. What did you mean by that?"  
  
Aphneal bit her lip and thought a moment. "I guess things started happening about two years after I became a slave. Once I saw Runog's Fire, and it came to me." She glanced at Niko, but he just nodded for her to continue. "About a year or so later, after the pirates had come back from a raid, a drunk one started to"-she paused and blushed-"to kinda, you know, kick me around, and then suddenly, his pants leg was on fire! I didn't set it, I swear, and we were the only ones-"  
  
Niko raised a hand. "It's okay," he said soothingly, and the girl quieted.  
  
"I guess that's when I first thought I had some kind of magic, but nothing else ever happened, so I kinda forgot about it." She sighed and rubbed her face with her hands.  
  
"Then your magic must have something to do with fire," predicted Niko.  
  
Aphneal nodded tiredly.  
  
"I better let you go," Niko said, seeing the sudden drop to Aphneal's delicate form. "I'll need to check around for any available fire mages." Getting up, he announced, "Oh, and you can be released tomorrow-you're well enough."  
  
With a last smile and a wave, the mage hurried out the door.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"Of course she can stay here, Niko, we'd be glad to have her," Lark said kindly. "She'd have to share a room with one of the girls though."  
  
Niko nodded. "It would be perfect-I even found her a teacher. She's a new dedicate, from Karang. Her name is Lightfire, and she specializes in fire magic. I would've asked Frostpine, but I didn't want to burden him with two students, and besides, he's more of a smith than I think Aphneal is."  
  
Rosethorn, who sat next to Lark, asked, "When is the girl coming? Are we going to meet Lightfire?"  
  
"I was hoping she could arrive tomorrow, seeing that you are ready. And as for Lightfire, I will try to introduce you within the next day or so-she has been working with Moonstream for some project."  
  
"Sounds good to me," Lark agreed.  
  
Rosethorn smiled crookedly. "I'll go tell the others."  
  
  
  
Hmmm...sorry for it moving so slow, but I PROMISE that next chapter she'll meet the Circle gang. I'm not sure if this chapter is as good as the rest; when I wrote it I was sort of in a daze.anyways, REVIEW!!! PLEASE!!! 


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